


Orange Lavaburst Emergen-C

by MyChemicalRachel



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: But screw McDonalds, Gen, I'm not bitter or anything, In loving memory of Orange Lavaburst Hi-C
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-12
Updated: 2017-05-12
Packaged: 2018-10-31 01:29:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10888965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyChemicalRachel/pseuds/MyChemicalRachel
Summary: The one where the Samwell Men's hockey team finds out that McDonald's is getting rid of Hi-C and they're not happy about it.





	Orange Lavaburst Emergen-C

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KastielGrace](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KastielGrace/gifts).



When Holster skids to a halt outside Bitty’s bedroom, glasses askew and panting for breath, Bitty doesn’t think much of it. Living in a frat house for almost two years means he’s gotten used to Holster’s shenanigans.

“There’s an emergency,” Holster gasps. He leans against the doorjamb for support. “Nine-one-one. SOS.”

Bitty doesn’t bother glancing up from his textbook. “Can it wait? I’m in the middle of Calc and it’s due tomorrow.”

“ _ Emergency _ ,” Holster stresses, drawing out the word to as many syllables as possible. “Emergencies don’t wait for math homework, bro.”

Finally, Bitty sets down his pencil and turns in his chair to face Holster. “Okay, Holtzy,” he sighs. “Is it a real emergency, or something you think constitutes as an emergency?”

“A real fucking emergency, Bits.” Holster digs his cell phone out of his pocket and types away for a second before turning the screen to Bitty. “Look at this shit.”

Bitty leans in closer, reading the headline of the article Holster has brought up:

**_McDonald’s to Remove Orange Lavaburst Hi-C from Locations Nationwide._ **

Bitty clutches his chest, looking up at Holster with terror in his eyes. “That’s a joke, right? They’re not actually takin’ it…  _ right _ ? Holster, tell me it’s not true!”

Holster shakes his head sadly. “I know, bro. I know.”

Bitty falls back in his chair, shoving his homework aside. “It can’t be true,” Bitty mumbles to himself. “Not the Hi-C. They could take that shitty excuse for lemonade instead. Why the Hi-C? Why did it have to be the Hi-C?!”

“There’s still hope, Bitty,” Holster says, and places a comforting hand on Bitty’s shoulder. “We have a plan.”

Just at that moment, Ransom barrels into Holster. There’s a mix of panic, resentment, and determination morphing his features. “You guys ready?”

“Ready?” Bitty asks. “For what?”

Narrowing his eyes and clenching his fist, Holster looks like the billboard for revolution. “Ready to get that fuckin’ Hi-C.”

* * *

 

When the car parks and the entire Samwell men’s hockey team falls out into the parking lot, Bitty feels the air rush back into his lungs like he’d been holding his breath for hours. In reality, he’d been crushed in the backseat of the mini-van with Jack, Nursey, and Chowder. Fitting four grown men into a seat meant for three average sized people was a feat they’d barely accomplished, but as Bitty looks up in wonder at the golden arches before him he knows it was worth it.

“I didn’t know you had a mom van,” Jack is saying to Lardo.

“It is not a mom van,” Lardo argues. “It’s just a mini-van. It was the only car big enough to fit all of my art junk.”

Jack smiles. “Yeah, and it can fit all your kids after soccer practice, too.”

“You mean hockey practice,” Shitty interjects, throwing an arm around Jack’s shoulder. “Face it, Lards; you’re kind of our hockey mom.”

“I am no one’s mother,” Lardo says. “Stop calling me a mom or you can walk your Hi-C back to the Haus.”

“Hi-C!” Shitty shouts, reminded of their mission. “Frogs! Get the tub!”

With minimal protests, Dex and Nursey pull the cooler from the back of the van. Jack falls back to walk with Bitty when Shitty takes the lead, marching into the McDonald’s with intent.

They wait in line, and when it’s their turn the woman behind the register smiles politely. “Welcome to McDonald’s. What can I get you today?”

Shitty slams a twenty on the counter. “We want your Hi-C,” he demands. “All of it.”

The woman’s smile falters. “Excuse me?”

“Your Hi-fuckin’-C,” Shitty repeats. “I’d like to purchase the remainder of that beverage.”

“Um…” The woman frowns. She holds up a slim finger. “Just one moment. I’ll get the manager.”

Shitty waits patiently while the employee disappears into the back. A moment later, a man comes out. “Johnson, you fuckin’ beaut!” Shitty shouts, startling a few customers. “I didn’t know you worked here!”

Johnson, Bitty remembers from his freshman year, was the hockey team’s old goalie.

“I thought you were interning for that comic writer,” Shitty continues. “What are you doing here?”

Johnson shrugs. “I do this in my free time. So you heard about the Hi-C, huh?”

“Man,” Shitty leans dramatically on the counter. His eyes look watery. “Didn’t believe it at first. I feel betrayed, bro. It’s tragic.”

Johnson nods understandingly. “I get it. Go ahead,” he says, and gestures to the fountain drinks on the wall. “Take as much as you need. No charge.”

Shitty sniffles and goes to retrieve his money, but Johnson grabs it first, tucking it into his own shirt pocket. “No,” Johnson says. “This is my tip. Enjoy your drink.”

Shitty turns to the rest of the team, breathing slowly. “I want to say a few words before we do this.”

In unison, the team bow their heads. “Since I was a boy,” Shitty says. “I’ve known this Hi-C. It’s been there for me. A constant thing in this everchanging world. And now… now the time has come when we must say goodbye.”

When Shitty wipes his eyes and looks up, he spreads his arms. “My friends, my bros, we gather here today to bid farewell to the beverage we all loved so dearly. Would any of you like to say anything?”

Holster raises his hand. After a nod from Shitty, he steps forward. “I remember when I first came to Samwell. Ransom and I barely knew each other. We weren’t friends or bros, we were just two dudes who were on the hockey team together. One night, after a tough loss, we came here to grieve. And that night, Rans and I bonded over a shared cup of Hi-C. That night, because of this drink, we became bros.”

“Bro!” Ransom yells, and tackles Holster in a hug.

“Bro.” Holster grabs onto Ransom and holds him close.

Shitty claps. “Anyone else?” He asks. “Does anyone else have anything to say?”

“Really, there’s only one thing left to say.” Lardo steps forward. She raises her fist in the air and starts chanting, “HI-C! HI-C! HI-C!”

The others join in, lugging the tub to the fountain drinks on the wall. Together, the bros fill the tub with every last bit of the Hi-C. When they leave the McDonald’s with the remainder of the Orange Lavaburst Hi-C, they’ve got both heavy hearts and a heavy cooler, but they all feel closer than before. Bonded, once again, over the drink that was ripped away from them too soon.


End file.
